Crimson Fist
by rainbowlouise
Summary: It was a place for the broken, the forgotten, the unloved. They, who had their lives torn away from them, could find them again in such a place of heartache & hope. They're in a tournament where blood and crime is all they know, but not all they wish for.
1. Prologue

**A/N**

**Thank you for taking the time to read this. I hope you find what you were looking for. **

**

* * *

**

The house loomed like a shadow above him, threatening to swallow him up. In the pale moonlight, the place looked ghostly and cold, like the young man's pale hands inside his jacket pockets. A light breeze stirred his hair into his eyes and he brushed it away, the first time he'd moved since his arrival.

Sighing, the young man took a step. And another. They were slow and they were heavy, but there was no turning back. He kept walking, careful to keep his eyes trained on the house for any signs of life.

He winced at the choice of words, but kept going. Distantly, a clap of thunder resonated through the air. The sudden sound startled him, and he lost his focus. He breathed in sharply and lost his footing, falling to his knees. Juvenile tears sprung to his eyes, and he cursed himself. His palms were bleeding, the skin scraped and throbbing. Another clap sounded, closer this time.

He took a deep breath.

He kept going.

He slid his key into the lock and gently pushed the door open. Inside the house was just as ghostly as the outside – immaculate, barely lived in. Of course, it wouldn't look that way for long. The young man shut the door, holding his breath as he waited to be caught, but no one emerged. He was safe.

For now.

Uchiha Itachi climbed up the stairs of his family home, avoiding waves of nostalgia like the plague. He ignored any photographs, refused to look at his bedroom door. The gun in his pocket felt like lead.

Down the hall he walked, cautiously, soundlessly, slowly. Surrounded by the cream-coloured walls he'd spent his life surrounded by, it took all he had not to turn around and tell Sado to find someone else. He couldn't do it. He just _couldn't_.

Like clockwork, Sado's voice sounded in his head. "_Do it painlessly, or I'll do worse." _

Itachi took a final deep breath as he came to his parents' room at the end of the hall. He knew Sado, and whatever he had in mind would be a thousand times worse than this. If he had the means, he would kill that bastard with his own two hands. He'd choke him; force the life out of his lungs until he was begging for mercy. That loathsome, disgusting excuse for a human being.

He would do anything to take it all back. The Crimson Fist, starting it all; befriending Sado in the first place. What he wouldn't give for a simple second chance. But Sado was too powerful now, and Itachi would soon be gone. One cold night, a gun, and a thousand wrong decisions had led him here.

There was no turning back.

Itachi quietly opened the door, stepping onto the wooden floor and drawing the gun out of his pocket. His mother's face, so serene in sleep. His father's; frown lines carved into his expression. Together they lay in happiness, having no idea of what their eldest son was about to do.

He gripped the gun tighter, his finger brushing the trigger. A single, solitary tear rolled down his cheek.

"I love you." He whispered, just loud enough for his father's eyes to flutter open. For a second, their eyes met.

And then he fired.

Two blasts, perfectly aimed and shatteringly loud, shot from the barrel of the gun. Itachi's hand trembled in the silence that followed, and the gun fell to the floor. It went off a third time, blasting a hole in his mother's mirror. The glass exploded into a thousand pieces, and it was then that Itachi heard his brother's screams.

He turned to face the doorway, Sasuke's face a picture of pure horror as the wail tore from his mouth. Itachi longed to embrace him, to hold him so that he wouldn't break, but he kept his face expressionless. He had to, he had to.

"Brother, brother!" Sasuke sobbed, throwing himself onto their parents bed, "why are they bleeding so much? What was that sound?" the nine year old screamed, shaking his mother by the shoulders. "Itachi! Help me wake Mom up!"

"Sasuke... I..." Itachi searched for something, anything, to say to his younger brother. The one he loved more than anyone. The one he hoped would never follow in his own footsteps. That's why he had to do this – for Sasuke. His parent's death in exchange for keeping Sasuke out of the Fist. That's all Itachi wanted, and that was how the deal had been made. So long as Sasuke was safe, nothing else mattered.

Even if it meant Sasuke would loathe him for the rest of his life.

"Help me!" Sasuke begged, "Mommy! Dad!"

"They're not going to wake up, brother." Itachi said softly, "They're not going to wake up."

"Why?" Sasuke demanded, angry tears in his eyes. He glared at his brother with such hatred it almost hurt Itachi to see it. "_Why_?" Sasuke's eyes fell on the gun at Itachi's feet. Even so young, Uchiha Sasuke was not stupid. Disbelief replaced anger, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"No, no, no, no." He repeated, over and over again, like a mantra.

Itachi couldn't lie. "I love you, little brother. You can never understand."

Sasuke let out an animalistic roar, charging his older brother with everything he had. "You bastard! You bastard!" it was the only curse word Itachi had ever used around Sasuke, and it fit. He deserved worse.

Sasuke scooped the gun up and held it unsteadily in his hands. "I'll shoot you!" he cried, tears streaming down his face.

Itachi barely had the courage to look him in the eye. His brother was _not_ going to be a murderer. Quick as lightning he snapped his fist into Sasuke's face, crushing his nose and knocking him flat onto his back. Sasuke screamed again, a sound of raw pain, before he fell from consciousness. Itachi gingerly held the blood-covered boy close, kissing his forehead.

"I'm so sorry." He said, half to his parents and half to his brother, before leaving Sasuke on the blood-stained floor. He stood up, forced himself to look at what he had just done, and walked out. Walked out of his house, out of his life, out of himself.

Once outside, Uchiha Itachi looked up at the sky.

Like him, it was crying.


	2. Chapter One

**A/N**

**Thanks to any and all readers. Again, I hope you enjoy.**

**-Louise**

**

* * *

**

"_Uzamaki_! _Uzamaki_!" The crowd was chanting his name, and he loved it. Naruto wiped his brow of sweat, grinning at his opponent – Kushido Taraki. He was heavily built and taller than Naruto by a few inches, but it was clear who the better fighter was. Kushido was staggering already; breathing hard and full of rage. _Idiot, _Naruto thought. To be a real fighter, you had to _use _anger. You couldn't let it use you.

Maybe it wasn't obvious, but Uzamaki Naruto had plenty of anger to use.

"_Uzamaki, Uzamaki_!" they roared. Naruto smirked, leaning back against the ropes of the ring while he waited for the dark-haired man to regain his breath.

"Take it easy there, buddy. Don't wear yourself out too fast. We've only been going for... what? Seven minutes? Eight?" he taunted, shaking out his spiky blonde hair. "I expected more from a big, strong-looking guy like you."

Kushido Taraki glared at the young boy. "What kind of son-of-a-bitch did your parents raise you to be, Uzamaki?" He spat. Naruto paused, seemingly considering this.

"Well. You _really _shouldn't have mentioned my parents." He retorted pleasantly, before slamming his fist into Kushido's face so quickly the older man barely had time to blink. He didn't stop there. It was as if his fists were made of fire – he was a demon in the ring. A left hook, a right. A knee in the gut. Kushido never stood a chance.

"Hell." Naruto shook his head, ducking out through the ropes. "I raised _myself_." Kushido moaned softly, his face a mess of blood and bruises. Two guys hauled him out, pushing through the crowd that had parted for Naruto to walk by.

_It's always so dark in here_, Naruto thought, _it's kind of poetic really. All of us down here... darkness suits us. _He chuckled to himself as he punched the button to the elevator. Time to collect his cash, and then head on over to his rich-boy's apartment. Maybe he'd call the girls, show them a good time...

Nah. Taraki had managed to get a few good hits in. Naruto would be feeling them in a few hours. The doors slid open with a dull _ping_, and he stepped out onto the top floor. "Yo, Sado! I won, so where's my payout?" he yelled, banging on Sado's door.

"You loud bastard. Get in here." he heard the boss call from inside. Naruto grinned, pushing open the door and side-stepping Sado's giant bodyguard.

"Hey, boss! Did you catch the fight?" the blonde asked, waving maniacally at the pale-haired man sitting at the desk. His office was plainly decorated, but the man himself _stank _of cash. Smartly dressed and clean-shaven, he looked more like a white-collar business man than a widely-feared crime boss.

"Of course I did, idiot. You're lucky I had a lot of money riding on you to win." Sado said, leaning forward to push a white envelope across the desk. "Your next fight is in two days. Get some rest, but let those bruises show. I've got a couple of newbies who haven't seen you in action before. We're gonna cheat some suckers out of their money, alright? I want them to think you're a weakling."

Naruto shoved the money in his pocket. "Alright, boss. Whatever you say. Just make sure that if you get a big payout, you'll cut me more, okay?" For a moment, neither the fighter nor the boss said a word.

Then, they erupted into laughter.

"We're going to hell, aren't we Sado?" Naruto snickered.

"Not for a while, kiddo. Not for a while."

* * *

_What kind of son-of-a-bitch did your parents raise you to be, Uzamaki?_

Later, a bottle of sake in hand, Naruto contemplated what Kushido had asked. What kind of son-of-a-bitch might he have been, had his parents been alive to raise him? The thought made him laugh, and he took another swig. The taste kind of burned, but he relished in it. For the first time in his life, he had it made. Sitting in his swanky apartment, drinking his expensive booze, Naruto felt like a winner. Kami knew those feelings were rarities.

His head rolled aimlessly on his shoulders, eyes sweeping over the dark living room. The empty room cast shadows that played tricks on his blurred vision. Naruto rubbed at them angrily, before tossing the empty bottle to the ground and curling up on the couch. He laughed a hollow laugh, waiting for sleep to take him. Alcohol – insomnia's only cure.

So he waited, waited, waited, and wished for the millionth time that he'd led a different life. Too drunk to bother hiding the truth anymore, Naruto could've sworn he felt something slide down his cheek. But by morning, he'd forgotten about it, and the tear was nothing but an invisible stain on the armrest of his couch.

* * *

Sasuke knew all about hate. More than could possibly be healthy for a nineteen year old boy, in fact. But that hate that consumed him, lurked in the deepest recess of his mind, kept him from caring.

_What of Sasuke Uchiha? _He remembers her asking. He remembers shaking his head.

_Itachi Uchiha killed him a long time ago, _He remembers replying, right before leaving her in a tangle of bed sheets, her eyes glistening with tears. Like most things in Sasuke's life, hate had destroyed what he had with her as well.

Foster home to foster home, one place to the next, Sasuke wandered. He was trouble, a nuisance, a lost cause. After all, the nightmares had never really stopped. Even now they woke him, screaming and trembling, right before he cursed himself and his weakness. Nineteen and free of care, he'd made his way back to Konoha – the very place he'd been plucked from in an effort to quell the screams. He'd found an apartment, and he'd spent weeks searching for that accursed place his brother had warned him never to turn to. _The Crimson Fist. _

He found it easily. The accursed is drawn to the accursed, after all. He'd spent the past few days watching fight after fight, something sparking in his heart that he'd long-since forgotten. _Excitement_. Not exactly a happy emotion, but something akin to it. Sasuke guessed he should be proud of himself. He planned to sign up, and he planned to throttle the living shit out of anyone who dared get in the way of what he really wanted – _information_. All Sasuke Uchiha wanted was a single question answered.

_Where the hell is Itachi Uchiha? _

Sado ran both hands through his hair, breathing out an inaudible sigh. He picked his way through the files on his desk. He looked for something of interest, something to entertain him. _Black market dealings, investigations, hate mail, Fist applicants_ –

A name caught his eye. A grin spread across his face, revealing two perfect rows of pearly whites. Sado chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. He'd been wondering about this one for a long time.

_Sasuke Uchiha, eh? Well Itachi, the boy's following you after all. _


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N**

**Thank you to all readers and reviewers. You mean the world. The first few chapters are going to seem a little haphazard, but the plot should rear its' head soon enough.**

**

* * *

**

"Hey, Kiba."

Inuzuka Kiba glanced over his shoulder, rubbing behind Akamaru's ear one final time before standing up. He grinned, exposing sharpened canines and shaking his wild hair from his eyes. "Yo, Shikamaru." He returned, closing the gap between them and punching his friend lightly on the shoulder.

"I think I'm late." Shikmaru yawned, "Am I?"

"You lazy bastard, you know you're late." Kiba replied easily as they walked, "Lucky Sado's used to it."

"Eh." Shikamaru muttered, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He squinted against the harsh sunlight reflecting off the concrete path, and sighed. "I don't see why he can't come to us."

"Because he's a man of business. He doesn't leave his office, you know that. Personally, I think he sleeps there." Kiba replied. "Besides, this is a small price to pay for what we usually get out of it, and it isn't _that _far." He grinned.

Shikamaru looked less than enthused. "I guess. You better keep winning, or else I'm out." He said, but Kiba knew he wasn't serious. He'd stick by him whether he won or lost; whether he decided to keep fighting or not. Shikamaru wasn't just his unofficial manager and strategist; he was one of his most loyal friends.

"Yeah, right. Me, lose?" Kiba scoffed. "Not likely." Akamaru barked loudly at his side, wagging his long white tail. "See? Even Akamaru thinks I'm a winner."

"Kiba, I don't know if anyone's told you this before, but Akamaru is a dog. He can't understand you." Shikamaru glanced at him through one opened eye. Kiba raised his eyebrows.

"No kidding!" he laughed, "Seriously? And here I was, thinking my buddy here understood every word I said!" he leant down to scratch Akamaru's head.

"Dickhead." Shikamaru said absently, raising his head to the sky. They weren't too far away from Sado's office now, only a few more blocks. Still, Shikamaru thought, all of this Crimson Fist business was troublesome. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy it, he did, but he knew it was all going to explode sooner or later. Sado was smart, that much was true. He ran the Fist like clockwork, and Shikamaru admired him for that. However, he knew all it would take was one blabbermouth, and the cops would come crashing down on the place like a pile of bricks. Shikamaru didn't want his name anywhere near that hornet's nest for much longer.

They'd had a good run, after all. As a team, he and Kiba had made a fair bit of cash. Kiba was a born fighter – physically and mentally strong, tough as nails and determined as hell. The guy didn't take losing very well. And although he was no weakling, Shikamaru himself preferred to fight outside of the ring rather than in it. In the brawls the Fist hosted, strategic thinking was lost on most of the contestants. Kiba included – not that he was in any way stupid. Shikamaru, however, knew there was more the fighting than brute strength. You had to know your opponent, had to get inside their head. And he knew that teaming up with Kiba in that respect would get him the money he needed quickly, rather than going it alone.

Kiba was happy with the partnership, too. With Shikamaru, he didn't have to think. All he had to do was get in that ring and beat the living shit out of The Other Guy. Kiba liked not having to think, because he knew that eventually all kinds of thinking lead to thoughts about what had happened six months ago, and those kinds of thoughts weren't good for him.

They weren't good for anyone.

"See? Told you it wasn't that far." Kiba said, pointing to the large, black building on the corner. Shikamaru nodded.

"Guess you were right."

"Of course I was right."

"Sure."

Kiba rolled his eyes. "Let's just hurry up and find out when my next match is." He jogged ahead, a little apprehensive but a lot excited about going inside. Sado both terrified and inspired Kiba – everyone knew his story. He was some punk kid with nothing, until he founded the Fist. He made friends and enemies, and worked his way to the top of the crime-lord food chain. He dabbled in all things; drugs, booze, brawls and babes. Truly a sinful God in the eyes of Konoha's low lives. Kiba chuckled.

He mashed the elevator button with his palm, and it began to rise. Sado's office was, of course, on the top floor. The guy had nothing if not a God complex. When it finally _binged _at the top floor, Kiba was grinning excitedly. A new pick of newbies, some new faces to smash in. He wondered who he'd be paired with – no doubt Sado would want him with one of the tougher kids. He needed someone who'd draw a crowd, someone with a reputation for being dangerous.

As cheerful as he was outside the ring, Kiba had some serious issues to sort through inside it.

"Kiba, Shikmaru," Sado grinned at the two boys like they were old friends as soon as they walked in, "how have you been?"

Kiba laughed loudly, but Shikamaru barely cracked a smile. He knew that calculating look in Sado's eyes, and he didn't like it. "Fine." He muttered, "what's the set list for this week?"

Sado didn't lose the grin. "Straight to the point. I like it. Alright boys, take a seat." They did, sinking into the twin leather chairs opposite Sado's desk. Humming softly under his breath, Sado reached into the top drawer and pulled out a small, red, leather-bound book.

"Inuzuka... Inuzuka..." he murmured, scanning through the pages. "Ah! Here we are. You will be fighting... Hyuuga. Neji Hyuuga."

Kiba tried to recall where he'd heard the name. "Newbie?" he asked. Sado nodded.

"Relatively new. He won his first match against Aburame pretty quickly, but Aburame's a pushover anyway." Sado shrugged, "I paired him with you to see what kind of a fighter he _really _is."

"Please," Kiba smirked, "he'll be no match for me."

Sado nodded thoughtfully. "Well, we'll soon see won't we? Your fight's on Wednesday. That gives you a few days to get ready." The businessman's eyes flicked to Shikamaru. "I know how you like a few days in preparation, Shikamaru."

Shikamaru forced himself to meet the cool grey eyes of his employer. "Thank you, Sado. We... uh, appreciate that." There was that smile again, triumphant and cocky.

"Yeah, thanks." Kiba agreed with a curt nod. A cold silence settled over the room. Sado coughed, obviously expecting something else. Shikamaru forced himself to look Sado in the eye, no matter how much the guy scared him. He forced himself to look into those eyes, because each time he did, he felt closer to the truth.

_Was it you? _

"Well, I'm off." He placed his hands behind his head. "Coming, Kiba?"

"Ah, Shikamaru?" Half way to the office door, Shikamaru sighed once more and turned around. Sado rose, clasping his hands together. "A little rude to leave without being excused, don't you think?"

Shikamaru managed a thin smile. "Sorry, Sado. You know how I am." Sado laughed loudly. Kiba coughed out a laugh of his own.

"Just remember who your boss is, Nara." Sado said it cheerfully enough, but the gleam in his eyes was all Shikamaru needed to see. _Cross me, and I'll kill you. _Without another word, Sado handed Kiba a piece of paper and nodded for them to leave.

Barely repressing a shudder, Shikamaru all but hauled Kiba out of Sado's office. "You crazy son of a bitch." Kiba growled as they stepped into the elevator."What the hell?"

Shikamaru frowned. "That guy is dangerous." He said in a low voice.

Kiba rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like the entire population of Konoha doesn't know that. I thought you were supposed to be a genius."

"I'm not coming with you next time." Shikamaru muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. The elevator doors opened and he stalked out, leaving Kiba alone in the lobby. As soon as he got outside he broke into a run, desperate to escape those cool, grey eyes.

And all the secrets he knew they held.


End file.
